Blood of the Pharaohs
by WickedMaisch
Summary: A week before her 21st birthday, Evelot Tomely recieves exciting yet terrifying news. Now with the help of her mother Leah and a stranger, will Evelot ever come to realize just how deep her connection to Egypt actually runs.


**Blood of the Pharaohs**

When Evelot was a young girl, she always felt some connection to Ancient Egypt. She felt she was somehow connected to the pharaohs. It may have been because her father was a historian and her mother a archaeologist, but she always knew she didn't belong in this time. Oh was she ever right.

 **Evelot**

I never knew how my life would turn out after high school, better yet after a bachelor's degree in Western Civilization. Dad would be proud. Now with my birthday fast approaching, the only thing I want is to return back to Egypt and to stay in bed. I think back to that day, and chills go down my spine. I was so young and so obsessed with Egypt. It's been 10 years since feeling the heat on my head and back, rushing through the traffic in Cairo, 10 years since the night Dad died, 10 years since Mom lost it. I sigh. So much has changed since then, things like Mom and I. She's always been there, she's always been Mom. Leah Tomley, a short woman with a mean face but soft blue eyes. She keeps her wild curly, white-blonde hair in a pixie cut. Her excuse is that it stays out of her eyes but I know it's to try to forget dad. Mom looks older now than what she should look. That's what happens when your husband dies and you're left to raise a 11 year old daughter.

I roll over on my side and I'm met with purrs from Nefertiti, an Egyptian Manx with a white spot on her chest. I scratch behind her ears and smile.

"Hey pretty girl." I glance behind her at the digital clock on the nightstand, it's red lights blink 10:12 a.m. "Oh shit!"

I promised mom I'd meet her at the museum today at 10:30 a.m. I jump up quickly, receiving a disapproving meow from Nefertiti. I don't glance back, I grab yesterday's jeans and a random black shirt from the closet. I run the the bathroom and look up at the mirror. As usual the same piercing green eyes look back, the same green eyes my dad had. I shake my head and rushedly brush my teeth.

Glancing back up at the mirror, I try to decide what to do with my unruly hair. The same curls my mother had yet have been left to grow out on their own, reaching my lower back. Yet, unlike my mother my hair is a deep shade of black like my fathers. I figure pulling it back in a bun won't make mom as mad as just leaving it down to its own accord. I glance at my face again, more thoroughly this time, taking in my roundish face and sharp cheekbones. My round eyes makes it seem like I always have a shocked look instead of my mom's resting bitch face look. I snicker. I turn around to check my overall appearance in the full body mirror behind the door. My tall, curvy frame is familiar and gentle, but I can't shake the feeling something is going to change soon.

I'm out the door and running down the sidewalk, when my phone starts to ring. I roll my eyes, can't she ever wait five minutes before calling someone. "Hello, mother. I'm on my-"

"I wish you would understand the meaning of being on time Evelot!" She chastises me.

"Ya know mom, it has been almost 2 years of me living in my own apartment, I don't really have someone to wake me up like you did."

She scoffs and I'm pretty sure she has her eyebrow raised like she normally does when agitated. "Mom, I'm three blocks away I'll be there in 10."

I quickly hang up the phone before she can tell me something along the lines of "Tomely's are never late dear! We are descended from the Ptolemaeus pharaohs of Egypt, so we must act it!"

I laugh out loud and get a quizzical side glance from a stranger walking past me and that's when it hits me, someone is watching me. I stop dead in my tracks and that's when see him. Across the road, through the traffic, a tall man dressed in all black. I knew he was a stranger, especially with the salted caramel color of his skin, is uncommon for this area, and his cold eyes catch me. Just like a snake with prey.

Someone bumps into me jarring me out of my stone like expression. I mumble a sorry and turn my way onto the street of the museum. Out of breath and out of time, I rush my way up the top of the British Museum's stairs, pushing the strange man out of my mind. I make my way through the familiar museum to mom's office. As I turn the corner, I accidentally run straight into Harris.

"Goddamnit Harris! Watch where you're going," I fume.

Jasper Harris, mother's asshole assistant, a tall man of about 30, brown eyes with greasy brown hair to match. He looks like a human ferret.

"Miss Tomely, I hate to tell you this again," he runs his fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses, I inwardly gag, " but it is to you, young lady."

As I am figuring out a childish come back, I hear mom's crisp voice.

"Harris, if you speak to my daughter like that, I must certainly say I will have to dock your pay," she absentmindedly fixes her gray pencil skirt and turns to face me. "You are late Evelot Rose."

I sigh and follow her into her office, but not before turning to stick my tongue out at Harris.


End file.
